


Not An Errand Boy

by GenerallyElusive



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Banter, Gen, top bantz, warning: sass alert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 01:36:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5478392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenerallyElusive/pseuds/GenerallyElusive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian could make a sport out of winding the Commander up.<br/>Cullen however has a awful lot of work to do and wishes he wouldn't, thank you very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not An Errand Boy

**Author's Note:**

> A wee Dorian/Cullen drabble. Short and sweet.  
> Enjoy! Comments+Kudos much appreciated. :3  
> You can also find me over on Tumblr - http://generallyperfect.tumblr.com/

Dorian raised a hand and knocked lightly upon the door. Naturally, before its owner had any chance of responding, he pushed it open and sauntered in.

“Who-..” Cullen was part way through the question and half-risen from his desk when he realized the identity of his surprise visitor. The words caught in his throat and he cut himself off with a grunt.

“Whugh? I do hope that’s some kind of backwards Fereldan greeting reserved for loved ones.” Dorian purred, leaving the door to lazily swing shut behind him as he paced further into the room.

“Not now, Pavus. I’m rarely in the mood for your games on a good day.” Cullen growled, returning to his seat. He must be busy, he practically spat the surname like a curse.

“And this is not a good day?”

“No.”

The commander resumed his work, checking and double checking various sheets of parchment and scrawling out notes. Dorian noted that his penmanship was appalling. As his eyes adjusted to the relative gloom of the office he became aware of rich purple bruising around the commander’s left eye and cooed. Hands clasped behind his back, he leant across the desk to get a better look.

“Goodness me, which of Skyhold’s fine ladies gave you that?“ Cullen glanced up from his work, confusion written across his face for all of a moment until Dorian gestured vaguely in the direction of his eye. He’d barely drawn breath to respond before the mage continued. "Un-less… you’ve been spending time with the Bull?” He grinned so wide it made his face hurt a little.

“NO!” Cullen cleared his throat. “..No.” His blushing was doing the black eye no favours. “It was a woman.”

“Ooo, you  _are_ filthy..”

“ _Actually_ it was combat practice, if you must know.”

Dorian laughed and turned, perching delicately upon the edge of the commander’s desk, pleased when the action ellicited a *tut* and a glare. Cullen’s buttons were so easy to push and today he was in a mind to play him like a musical instrument.

“Well I hope she at least bought you dinner, first.”

Cullen sighed, exasperated, yet plodded doggedly onward with his work. Dorian couldn’t help but feel he was making a concerted effort to avoid eye contact. Perhaps counting to ten in his head or something.

“Does your lady friend have a name?”

Silence.

“Or did you perhaps forego names. Make it more  _edgy_ and interesting..”

Further silence. Cullen’s ears were going red.

“I can sit here all day, Commander. I have simply  _scads_ of time.”

The quill ceased its scratching and Cullen closed his eyes. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do than torment me?”

“Gracious no, tormenting you is simply the highlight of my day! Sadly there is no paint to watch dry or I'm afraid I would have had to cancel this little soirée.”

“What _ever_  would I do…”

“Why, Commander, sarcasm is awfully becoming on you. If I didn't know any better I’d swear you were enjoying this.”

Another long sigh. Quill returned to inkwell. Gloved hands balled into fists briefly before relaxing. Fingers laced together. Calm. Cullen pointedly met his gaze and held it.

“All you need to know is, should our Lady Cassandra offer to spar with you, for Maker’s sake find an excuse not to take her up on it.”

Dorian smirked. “Noted.”

“Now, Lord Pavus, is there something I can help you with?” His tone was calm, if forced, which took all the fun out of it. We were back to proper titles too, it seemed. It usually took longer for Cullen to figure out that he was being wound up on purpose, but perhaps he was becoming more resistant to it with time. All good things must come to and end as they say, besides he’d had his fill of teasing the blond Fereldan for now.

“Now that you mention it, there was a little something I was supposed to pass along…” He made a show of racking his brains to remember, attempting to see how deep the commander’s well of patience ran. Unfortunately Cullen was having none of it, and went to resume his work. “Ah yes! Pardon me. The Inquisitor requested your attendance at, erm..”  _Pause for effect._  “One of those..”  _Vague hand gestures_. “Council meetings, she likes to hold…”

 _Bingo_. The news, delightfully, caused Cullen to tense up, quill in hand, sending a splatter of black ink across the list he’d been meticulously filling out.

“Requested? When did she-..? A meeting? When?!” All of the colour he had spent so long building in the commander’s cheeks was rapidly draining. Dorian, the picture of innocent ignorance, started idly examining his nails.

“Oh around an hour ago.”

“An hour!?” Cullen leapt from behind his desk, frantically donning his armour and straightening his appearance. “Why didn't you say so sooner!”

“Because it’s  _far_ more fun this way!” Cullen groaned through gritted teeth, hopping on one leg whilst trying to wrangle his other foot into a boot. “And I would also thank you to remind our beloved Inquisitor when you see her that I am  _not_ an errand boy.”

Cullen stormed from his office, leaving Dorian calling after him in lilting tones. 

“I do so enjoy our little talks!”


End file.
